You never know when or in what form you may get a glimpse of American culture. Yesterday, in one of my speaking classes, the students were working in groups, discussing the possible changes and advances that may take place in the world by the year 2045. (The date the textbook set was 2025, but it’s about 20 years old. Let’s just say that the cover of this text has the silhouette of a man with one of the most unbridled and majestic moustaches you will ever see the outline of and that the picture that accompanies this activity was chocked full of flying cars.) Along with articulating these speculations, they were also given the task of making the following judgment: is this a change for the better, for the worse, or neither and why?
One group suggested that time travel would, by this time, be a reality. When asked if this development would be a positive influence on society, one student said no. His reason was that this would allow people to go back in time and gamble unfairly on past sporting events. I asked him if he got this concept from a certain move sequel and he said yes. I have never been prouder.
When all is said and done, I have to agree with him. Sorry Biff, but due to people like you, the Flux Capacitor is just a little too risky. Take it from me, because thanks to about a dozen time zones, I’m actually writing this from the future.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Culture Club part 1 (but not the Boy George kind…for the most part)
When making that sometimes painful transition from fanny pack toting tourist to actual resident, there are a few things you can do to cope with the cultural stress. One option is to remember that you are not alone in this process and that others all around the globe are awkwardly fumbling into strange new lifestyles. For example, Michael Jackson made the leap from the magical world that is the Never Land Ranch to the Middle Eastern country of Bahrain, and judging by his recent lack of publicity, I have to imagine that things are going pretty well for the King of Pop. Sure you can make excuses as to the cause of his successful adaptation. You can speculate that Bahrain is a country lined with zoos and glove shops from coast to coast and that architects there never really warmed up to the prospect of a second story balcony, but in the end, you have to give Michael the nod and face the music (especially the song Billy Jean because the video had light-up sidewalks).
The other option is to take note of those things which seem a bit frustrating when set against your own arbitrary biases that America has endowed you with, intentionally choose to look past these things, and ultimately chalk them up to that neutral entity known as culture. Plus this isn’t really a subject you can tackle egocentrically because, as Newton taught us, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. If I’m frustrated, chances are, the person across the table is experiencing that same negative affect and thankfully, the Vietnamese are an incredibly gracious people, always willing to give me some operational slack, a mentality that deserves emulation. Besides in the end, not to underestimate that force that culture brings to any situation, people are people and we’re all doing the best we can the best we know how.
However, sometimes I fall short of this standard and take advantage of what I like to call the Zach Morris Effect. Go back with me, if you will, to a high time of ripped jeans, neon colors, and hair parted down the middle, the era that launched the just post-pubescent phenomenon known as Saved by the Bell. The lead character was a charismatic heartthrob named Zach Morris who had the ability, with a snap of his finger, to pause time at any moment as a means of narrating his current dilemma and aiding those viewers who had perhaps missed certain key points amidst the intricate plot twists. In his case, all of the characters were frozen in times, and often, just to stick it to his jocky counterpart, he would undue a button or two on Slater’s silk shirt. Yes, Zach could be absolutely vicious.
In Vietnam this finger snap manifests itself in the following way. My students here in Hanoi have quite an impressive English proficiency and many Hanoians know at least a little English and then again, many residents have little to no working knowledge of this ridiculously confusing language. When communicating with these two latter groups there is a mutual ability for each side to speak freely and fastly in their own native language without any fear of their international counterparts comprehending what was spoken (I mean I’m learning Vietnamese, but it’s a tough process, and at this point, unless we’re dealing with numbers or salutational inquiries, people really have to slow down for me to get even an inkling of meaning). As such, I’m able to offer narration on any situation as if the person I’m commenting on isn’t even there, which can be a really dangerous privilege because often these comments are the sarcastic products of cultural frustration.
For example, last night five of us went out for dinner and while we we’re ordering, four different employees were huddling around our table in an uncomfortably close sort of way. One man kept pointing to the menu and speaking to Melia (our American Korean teammate who often gets pegged by the nationals as Vietnamese) and when somebody asked what I thought he was saying, I responded with, “Well judging by his outfit, I can only imagine that he’s describing 19 different ways to say denim in Vietnamese.” It was a spiteful comment and not what an ambassador of any sort should be saying, but it’s a coping mechanism I often fall into. I myself though take no personal responsibility for such episodes and blame it all on Mark-Paul Gosselaar. Okay not really, but seriously, it’s an area I need help with.
.........On another note, here's a link to view some pictures of the team. They were taken by one of our two team leaders so they're mainly just pics of the team hanging out and not us with our students (the latter being something I need to put more of on here because that is really my lifeblood here).
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=8978&l=cd31e&id=612313582
The other option is to take note of those things which seem a bit frustrating when set against your own arbitrary biases that America has endowed you with, intentionally choose to look past these things, and ultimately chalk them up to that neutral entity known as culture. Plus this isn’t really a subject you can tackle egocentrically because, as Newton taught us, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. If I’m frustrated, chances are, the person across the table is experiencing that same negative affect and thankfully, the Vietnamese are an incredibly gracious people, always willing to give me some operational slack, a mentality that deserves emulation. Besides in the end, not to underestimate that force that culture brings to any situation, people are people and we’re all doing the best we can the best we know how.
However, sometimes I fall short of this standard and take advantage of what I like to call the Zach Morris Effect. Go back with me, if you will, to a high time of ripped jeans, neon colors, and hair parted down the middle, the era that launched the just post-pubescent phenomenon known as Saved by the Bell. The lead character was a charismatic heartthrob named Zach Morris who had the ability, with a snap of his finger, to pause time at any moment as a means of narrating his current dilemma and aiding those viewers who had perhaps missed certain key points amidst the intricate plot twists. In his case, all of the characters were frozen in times, and often, just to stick it to his jocky counterpart, he would undue a button or two on Slater’s silk shirt. Yes, Zach could be absolutely vicious.
In Vietnam this finger snap manifests itself in the following way. My students here in Hanoi have quite an impressive English proficiency and many Hanoians know at least a little English and then again, many residents have little to no working knowledge of this ridiculously confusing language. When communicating with these two latter groups there is a mutual ability for each side to speak freely and fastly in their own native language without any fear of their international counterparts comprehending what was spoken (I mean I’m learning Vietnamese, but it’s a tough process, and at this point, unless we’re dealing with numbers or salutational inquiries, people really have to slow down for me to get even an inkling of meaning). As such, I’m able to offer narration on any situation as if the person I’m commenting on isn’t even there, which can be a really dangerous privilege because often these comments are the sarcastic products of cultural frustration.
For example, last night five of us went out for dinner and while we we’re ordering, four different employees were huddling around our table in an uncomfortably close sort of way. One man kept pointing to the menu and speaking to Melia (our American Korean teammate who often gets pegged by the nationals as Vietnamese) and when somebody asked what I thought he was saying, I responded with, “Well judging by his outfit, I can only imagine that he’s describing 19 different ways to say denim in Vietnamese.” It was a spiteful comment and not what an ambassador of any sort should be saying, but it’s a coping mechanism I often fall into. I myself though take no personal responsibility for such episodes and blame it all on Mark-Paul Gosselaar. Okay not really, but seriously, it’s an area I need help with.
.........On another note, here's a link to view some pictures of the team. They were taken by one of our two team leaders so they're mainly just pics of the team hanging out and not us with our students (the latter being something I need to put more of on here because that is really my lifeblood here).
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=8978&l=cd31e&id=612313582
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Eleanor Rigby vs Penny Lane
Here are some pictures from the last two months: two of the average Hanoi landscape, two of my students, and one of our team in China at the Great Wall. Let me know if there are specific kinds of things you want to see pictures of on here. Gregg, I know you're looking for shots of the architecture and I will soon deliver.
A lot has happened since the last post.
When we first arrived in Hanoi, the institute put us up in a hotel. However, about a week and a half ago we moved into the school's guesthouse. It's right next to do the school, and, in turn, demands only a short walk to class that affords certain privileges a ten minute bicycle ride cannot. Case in point, I’m now able to bring a hot cup of coffee to my 7am classes on Mondays and Tuesdays, a cargo I was never brave enough to carry on my sweet three speed ride. True, I do wear a helmet on my bike, but that’s only so much protection. For example, that kind of bravado could have scalded my teaching arm. Such an injury might have taken off some arm hair, which would probably be a good thing in a country where body hair is about as common as a reference to Andrew Dice Clay, but it’s still not worth it. Besides, if it didn’t make Robin Williams self-conscious to be here, then what do I have to worry about.
In this guesthouse, I share a room with Scott, a good friend whom I met in Nam during my summer teaching stint in ’06. It’s modest and adequate and comfortable. In many ways it’s like living in the dorms again, which I really like. We have an adjoining bathroom that, when we first moved in, had a pretty bad leak (actually leak is too weak of a word, it was really more of a spurt shooting out of the wall). On top of that, the tank on the toilet was broke and couldn’t fill up, rendering that cathartic act of flushing impossible. However, Scott, with the amazing ingenuity of that basketball coach who finally put Air Bud in the game, took the two problems and cancelled them out. He used a bucket to catch the spurt and then emptied the contents into the tank. I was honestly impressed. He found that creative third way.
This new location is also great for relationships. You can never underestimate the power of proximity. I see my students all the time now as I’m out and about living in Hanoi. Last Saturday I simply walked outside my place and met a group of students for lunch. We had a really good time. Most of them are from provinces outside of Hanoi so they actually live in the next building over. It’s referred to as the student hostel. The main course was a soup called Lau, a meal with quite the selection of ingredients. I asked them specifically about one strange looking piece of meat that they had deposited in my bowl. It was beige colored, cut into a wide but then strips, and covered with small spiky bumps. Stupidly, I asked them what it was before I ate it. They said it came from the cow’s stomach. Without asking any further questions, I wrapped it in veggies, counted to three, took a few cautionary bites, and swallowed hard. A few days later I found out that it’s called tripe and it’s the lining of a cow’s udders. That’s right, they’re not just for milk anymore.
That's about all for now, but I'll write more soon. Also, those on my newsletter list....I'll be sending in my first edition to ELI headquarters this week so hopefully it will arrive at your door about two weeks after that. I apologize for not sending one out sooner. There are some things in it that I can't wait to share with you.
Take care and keep in touch.
A lot has happened since the last post.
When we first arrived in Hanoi, the institute put us up in a hotel. However, about a week and a half ago we moved into the school's guesthouse. It's right next to do the school, and, in turn, demands only a short walk to class that affords certain privileges a ten minute bicycle ride cannot. Case in point, I’m now able to bring a hot cup of coffee to my 7am classes on Mondays and Tuesdays, a cargo I was never brave enough to carry on my sweet three speed ride. True, I do wear a helmet on my bike, but that’s only so much protection. For example, that kind of bravado could have scalded my teaching arm. Such an injury might have taken off some arm hair, which would probably be a good thing in a country where body hair is about as common as a reference to Andrew Dice Clay, but it’s still not worth it. Besides, if it didn’t make Robin Williams self-conscious to be here, then what do I have to worry about.
In this guesthouse, I share a room with Scott, a good friend whom I met in Nam during my summer teaching stint in ’06. It’s modest and adequate and comfortable. In many ways it’s like living in the dorms again, which I really like. We have an adjoining bathroom that, when we first moved in, had a pretty bad leak (actually leak is too weak of a word, it was really more of a spurt shooting out of the wall). On top of that, the tank on the toilet was broke and couldn’t fill up, rendering that cathartic act of flushing impossible. However, Scott, with the amazing ingenuity of that basketball coach who finally put Air Bud in the game, took the two problems and cancelled them out. He used a bucket to catch the spurt and then emptied the contents into the tank. I was honestly impressed. He found that creative third way.
This new location is also great for relationships. You can never underestimate the power of proximity. I see my students all the time now as I’m out and about living in Hanoi. Last Saturday I simply walked outside my place and met a group of students for lunch. We had a really good time. Most of them are from provinces outside of Hanoi so they actually live in the next building over. It’s referred to as the student hostel. The main course was a soup called Lau, a meal with quite the selection of ingredients. I asked them specifically about one strange looking piece of meat that they had deposited in my bowl. It was beige colored, cut into a wide but then strips, and covered with small spiky bumps. Stupidly, I asked them what it was before I ate it. They said it came from the cow’s stomach. Without asking any further questions, I wrapped it in veggies, counted to three, took a few cautionary bites, and swallowed hard. A few days later I found out that it’s called tripe and it’s the lining of a cow’s udders. That’s right, they’re not just for milk anymore.
That's about all for now, but I'll write more soon. Also, those on my newsletter list....I'll be sending in my first edition to ELI headquarters this week so hopefully it will arrive at your door about two weeks after that. I apologize for not sending one out sooner. There are some things in it that I can't wait to share with you.
Take care and keep in touch.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Some real conversation for your....
I’ve been thinking about Jack Kerouac’s book On the Road lately. In the novel, Sal Paradise goes back and forth, from one ocean to another across the American landscape, many times in hopes of finding exactly what his last name so blatantly suggests. In the end, he finds that there is no perfect place and that anywhere you are, you have to deal with the same personal, interpersonal, and spiritual stuff. Sal realizes this, albeit with some resignation, but his friend, Dean Moriarty, never does and foolishly keeps looking for a place that doesn’t exist. As such, Dean lives in a state of unquenchable, but very fleeting excitement, and leaves damaged roots everywhere he goes.
I think that’s kind of what that book is about, but it’s been about a year since I read it, and maybe I’ve made it into something it isn’t. Regardless, it’s been a comforting thought. I mean in the end, we should never feel completely at home anywhere we go. We’re all, every single one of us, foreigners. There is something bigger and something better, and it’s those longings in us that can’t be fulfilled that let us know that this is true. So in the present, let’s not make this an excuse for complacency, but instead go to where the need is and meet it the best we can. There is no paradise here on this globe that you can escape to, but there are places everywhere that you can help make at least a little better.
I listened to a talk by Rob Bell yesterday called “Heaven and Wine” on Melia’s ipod. It was amazing and I would encourage everyone to check it out. Our focus has to be here. It’s Gnosticism to only think of the beyond without working to change the present. The now (the physical) can be made good and it’s every single person’s responsibility to aid that process.
Such things might be contradictory and maybe that’s because I’m just typing as fast as my thoughts are coming, but in the end, the relation of the finite to the infinite is a bit paradoxical. Kierkegaard (the king of the paradox), in Fear and Trembling, says the standard is the knight of faith, and not the knight of infinite resignation. “A purely human courage is required to renounce the whole world of the temporal to gain the eternal; but this I do gain, and to all eternity I cannot renounce it – that being a self contradiction. But a paradox enters in, and a humble courage is required to grasp the whole of the temporal by virtue of the absurd, and this is the courage of faith.”
With all of this in mind, I’m grateful to be here in Vietnam and I’m also grateful that all of you are exactly where you are. Derek Webb, in an interview with Donald Miller, (which might just be my favorite sound bite ever) talks about brining people a taste of what is to come. His example: there are 300 million without drinking water in Africa. By helping to build wells in these struggling communities and empowering the people to continue the work, we are giving them a taste of paradise. By helping to meet their thirst, we are giving them a glimpse of a place where there is no thirst. With this in mind, let's all act both locally and globally.
I hope all that made since. It’s been a tough, but good, week as I continue to adjust to my role here and all these things have been heavy on my mind. Maybe some of the things I said were wrong according to that most abstract, but still important, of sciences that oftentimes burns more bridges than it builds, but, once again, it’s just what I’ve been thinking about lately.
Be brave, be courageous, and be bold. As C.S. Lewis says in A Grief Observed, “Only a real risk tests the reality of a believe.” And of course, thank you so much to all of you who have helped me to get here and have kept me in your thoughts. Without you, this risk wouldn’t be possible.
Sorry this post wasn’t funny, but as the T.V. theme song used to say, “Different Strokes rule the world.” That show, believe it or not, was Different Strokes. So thank you for your wise words Gary Coleman.
…On another note, this morning I was at a gathering with a woman from Burma. She broke into tears while discussing the current situation and the lack of safety for the people there. It made that issue so much more real. Please, if you could, keep this in your thoughts as well.
…I’ll post with some pics very soon too, in hopes to describe a little more concretely just what life over here is like.
Take care.
I think that’s kind of what that book is about, but it’s been about a year since I read it, and maybe I’ve made it into something it isn’t. Regardless, it’s been a comforting thought. I mean in the end, we should never feel completely at home anywhere we go. We’re all, every single one of us, foreigners. There is something bigger and something better, and it’s those longings in us that can’t be fulfilled that let us know that this is true. So in the present, let’s not make this an excuse for complacency, but instead go to where the need is and meet it the best we can. There is no paradise here on this globe that you can escape to, but there are places everywhere that you can help make at least a little better.
I listened to a talk by Rob Bell yesterday called “Heaven and Wine” on Melia’s ipod. It was amazing and I would encourage everyone to check it out. Our focus has to be here. It’s Gnosticism to only think of the beyond without working to change the present. The now (the physical) can be made good and it’s every single person’s responsibility to aid that process.
Such things might be contradictory and maybe that’s because I’m just typing as fast as my thoughts are coming, but in the end, the relation of the finite to the infinite is a bit paradoxical. Kierkegaard (the king of the paradox), in Fear and Trembling, says the standard is the knight of faith, and not the knight of infinite resignation. “A purely human courage is required to renounce the whole world of the temporal to gain the eternal; but this I do gain, and to all eternity I cannot renounce it – that being a self contradiction. But a paradox enters in, and a humble courage is required to grasp the whole of the temporal by virtue of the absurd, and this is the courage of faith.”
With all of this in mind, I’m grateful to be here in Vietnam and I’m also grateful that all of you are exactly where you are. Derek Webb, in an interview with Donald Miller, (which might just be my favorite sound bite ever) talks about brining people a taste of what is to come. His example: there are 300 million without drinking water in Africa. By helping to build wells in these struggling communities and empowering the people to continue the work, we are giving them a taste of paradise. By helping to meet their thirst, we are giving them a glimpse of a place where there is no thirst. With this in mind, let's all act both locally and globally.
I hope all that made since. It’s been a tough, but good, week as I continue to adjust to my role here and all these things have been heavy on my mind. Maybe some of the things I said were wrong according to that most abstract, but still important, of sciences that oftentimes burns more bridges than it builds, but, once again, it’s just what I’ve been thinking about lately.
Be brave, be courageous, and be bold. As C.S. Lewis says in A Grief Observed, “Only a real risk tests the reality of a believe.” And of course, thank you so much to all of you who have helped me to get here and have kept me in your thoughts. Without you, this risk wouldn’t be possible.
Sorry this post wasn’t funny, but as the T.V. theme song used to say, “Different Strokes rule the world.” That show, believe it or not, was Different Strokes. So thank you for your wise words Gary Coleman.
…On another note, this morning I was at a gathering with a woman from Burma. She broke into tears while discussing the current situation and the lack of safety for the people there. It made that issue so much more real. Please, if you could, keep this in your thoughts as well.
…I’ll post with some pics very soon too, in hopes to describe a little more concretely just what life over here is like.
Take care.
Friday, September 21, 2007
You just can't take the effect and make it the cause.
Sorry for the hiatus. I'm just now getting over a pretty bad cold that had about a two week duration. They say that when you move to a new environment, like Vietnam, it's pretty common to get sick like this because all of the pathogens are, at least to this denim clad American immune system, pretty novel. I tried to hold out, but eventually I caved and bought some antibiotics. The pharmacy was a glass counter inside of a small street vender shop and David, my team leader, walked me through the process. The majority of the transaction, on my end, was me wincing and grabbing my throat while the young woman across the counter nodded her head. In the end, I paid a wopping 69,000 dong, which is pretty cheap considering Hanoi is pretty expenisive when compared ot most Southeast Asian cities.
Needless to say, a sore throat isn't exactly the perfect complement to a new teaching regiment. However, classes actually went pretty well. All in all, I;m teaching five 2.5 hour classes each week: 1 sophomore speaking class, 2 freshmen speaking classes, and 2 international relations classes for juniors. I enjoy them all, but I enjoy the i.r. classes the most as it's in these classes that we tend to delve into the most interesting discussions, because honestly, we tackle some pretty big issues. For example, this week's lesson was over the Aids crisis and next week's covers the Israeli-Palestinian issue.
I'm also starting to develop relationships with some of the students. I met with a student for tea this morning, then Scott and I had lunch with two Combodian students, and tomorrow I'm touring Hanoi with one of my junior classes. By far, it's the relationships that make my time here the most enjoyable.
I shared this with Sue already, but on another note, and at the risk of sounding corny, lately I've discovered a newfound appreciation for Ira Glass and This American Life. One of the programs I listened to lately was about a man who had invented a special kind of tweezer from which he had made millions. Just recently though he decided that he was going to bring peace to Iraq, so he, all by himself, departed for the middle east, left his tweezer know how back in the states, and took on the sensitive role of a diplomat. You've got to love that mentality.
Needless to say, a sore throat isn't exactly the perfect complement to a new teaching regiment. However, classes actually went pretty well. All in all, I;m teaching five 2.5 hour classes each week: 1 sophomore speaking class, 2 freshmen speaking classes, and 2 international relations classes for juniors. I enjoy them all, but I enjoy the i.r. classes the most as it's in these classes that we tend to delve into the most interesting discussions, because honestly, we tackle some pretty big issues. For example, this week's lesson was over the Aids crisis and next week's covers the Israeli-Palestinian issue.
I'm also starting to develop relationships with some of the students. I met with a student for tea this morning, then Scott and I had lunch with two Combodian students, and tomorrow I'm touring Hanoi with one of my junior classes. By far, it's the relationships that make my time here the most enjoyable.
I shared this with Sue already, but on another note, and at the risk of sounding corny, lately I've discovered a newfound appreciation for Ira Glass and This American Life. One of the programs I listened to lately was about a man who had invented a special kind of tweezer from which he had made millions. Just recently though he decided that he was going to bring peace to Iraq, so he, all by himself, departed for the middle east, left his tweezer know how back in the states, and took on the sensitive role of a diplomat. You've got to love that mentality.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
I want to ride my bicycle. I want to ride my bike.
Okay I finally got a bike (thanks for the bicycle advice on the last post). Unfortunately Gregg, it's not a Trek. In fact, I'm not sure that I could tell you the brand name. All I know is that it's used and it's Japanese and it's silver. Maybe I'll call it the Silver Bullet. It might be a good marketing ad to have werewolves riding them because they say that the only thing capable of killing such a creature is a silver bullet. It would be a cruel twist of mythological irony....the most powerful force in cycle sales. As for pegs, sorry Traever. However, I do have a basket, so I could still take people places, it's just that they would have to have somewhat of an ewok stature.
If there is one aspect of Hanoi that I could never fully articulate to a deserving degree, it would most certainly be the traffic. It's intense and the most common means of going anywhere is the motor bike. I mean I'm pretty sure that if the average Hanoi resident needs to go from his or her kitchen to the bathroom, he or she will take a motorbike. As such, they dot the roads quite densly. However, despite, or maybe because of this, I think my new favorite thing is riding my bike around Hanoi. After my first class at the Institute of International Relations (which I will very soon discuss in the next post) I rode to the school I taught at the summer before last, Hanoi-Amsterdam, to meet up with some old students. It was rush hour and it was crazy and it was great. The students and I had some ice cream and talked about life. We're planning on maybe seeing the new Harry Potter movie (it just opened it Hanoi) this Sunday. Call me a nerd but I love those movies. They're made for people with 10 second attention spans, so it's easier for me to watch without getting distracted by something shiny.
Also, it's awesome to be able to ride a bike and not have some frat guy yell "Hey Lance Armstrong" at you.
What's my bike's name? I believe I have to name it Kit. I just wish it would talk to me like the real Kit talked to Hasselhoff. Speaking of talking automobiles, does anybody remember that show "Heat Vision and Jack" that never really made it. Jack Black played the smartest man alive (his intelligence was due to radiation from the sun) and he had a motorcycle that could talk. Owen Wilson was the voice of the bike. Seriously, what else could the American television viewing audience ask for?
Take care everbody.
If there is one aspect of Hanoi that I could never fully articulate to a deserving degree, it would most certainly be the traffic. It's intense and the most common means of going anywhere is the motor bike. I mean I'm pretty sure that if the average Hanoi resident needs to go from his or her kitchen to the bathroom, he or she will take a motorbike. As such, they dot the roads quite densly. However, despite, or maybe because of this, I think my new favorite thing is riding my bike around Hanoi. After my first class at the Institute of International Relations (which I will very soon discuss in the next post) I rode to the school I taught at the summer before last, Hanoi-Amsterdam, to meet up with some old students. It was rush hour and it was crazy and it was great. The students and I had some ice cream and talked about life. We're planning on maybe seeing the new Harry Potter movie (it just opened it Hanoi) this Sunday. Call me a nerd but I love those movies. They're made for people with 10 second attention spans, so it's easier for me to watch without getting distracted by something shiny.
Also, it's awesome to be able to ride a bike and not have some frat guy yell "Hey Lance Armstrong" at you.
What's my bike's name? I believe I have to name it Kit. I just wish it would talk to me like the real Kit talked to Hasselhoff. Speaking of talking automobiles, does anybody remember that show "Heat Vision and Jack" that never really made it. Jack Black played the smartest man alive (his intelligence was due to radiation from the sun) and he had a motorcycle that could talk. Owen Wilson was the voice of the bike. Seriously, what else could the American television viewing audience ask for?
Take care everbody.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Remember The Magic Hour?
Okay, so it's been about a week that I've been here in Hanoi (or maybe I can take one from the ATL and call it Hot-Noi). Internet access has been sparce and email complications have abounded, but hopefully things will start to run a little smoother in that department since it's my main way to stay connected with everyone back in the states.
I think over these last seven days I've been coming to the slow realization of how much of an infant I am in this country. For example, this weekend I had three goals, none of which were accomplished. I wanted to buy a bike. I wanted to talk to a student on the phone. I wanted to send out another big email.
As for the bike, somehow the bike I was interested in (a used Japanese one) went from the high price of 1.5 million dong (pronounced "dom"....sorry all of you who are eternally 13, myself included) to 2.5 million in the course of a 30 minute bargaining break. All I can assume is that yesterday the international supply of bikes dipped dangerously low. Or maybe they just became the new Razor scooter or Nascar. Are Huffies popular again in America? Regardless, the price was way more than I was willing to spend. By the way, 16,000 dong is roughly equal to 1 U.S. dollar.
As for getting a hold of the student, the folks on the other line couldn't understand me at all, so I wasn't able to make phone contact. Remember when Magic Johnson had that talk show , The Magic Hour, and it got cancelled because he couldn't pronounce the words clearly enough for people to understand? Well, I kind of feel like that. In the end though, it was nothing an email couldn't solve.
As for email in general, it's going to be a learning experience this year I think. Access is just a little tougher than it was back at Purdue. Plus my ELIC enourage account won't send anything right now. Hopefully I can get that worked out.
I was planning on getting together with some old students tomorrow morning, but I had to cancel because of a teacher faculty meeting. I'm hoping we can reshcedule for later in the day. This next week should be a busy one though, full of meetings with old friends, hours of lesson planning and teaching, and the process of continued acclimation to this somewhat familar but still very new culture. Honestly, it's been a great week and I'm excited for what the rest of the year will bring.
Thanks so much for the all comments. It's nice to be able to access this thing again. It's going to be a nice way to keep in touch.
I think over these last seven days I've been coming to the slow realization of how much of an infant I am in this country. For example, this weekend I had three goals, none of which were accomplished. I wanted to buy a bike. I wanted to talk to a student on the phone. I wanted to send out another big email.
As for the bike, somehow the bike I was interested in (a used Japanese one) went from the high price of 1.5 million dong (pronounced "dom"....sorry all of you who are eternally 13, myself included) to 2.5 million in the course of a 30 minute bargaining break. All I can assume is that yesterday the international supply of bikes dipped dangerously low. Or maybe they just became the new Razor scooter or Nascar. Are Huffies popular again in America? Regardless, the price was way more than I was willing to spend. By the way, 16,000 dong is roughly equal to 1 U.S. dollar.
As for getting a hold of the student, the folks on the other line couldn't understand me at all, so I wasn't able to make phone contact. Remember when Magic Johnson had that talk show , The Magic Hour, and it got cancelled because he couldn't pronounce the words clearly enough for people to understand? Well, I kind of feel like that. In the end though, it was nothing an email couldn't solve.
As for email in general, it's going to be a learning experience this year I think. Access is just a little tougher than it was back at Purdue. Plus my ELIC enourage account won't send anything right now. Hopefully I can get that worked out.
I was planning on getting together with some old students tomorrow morning, but I had to cancel because of a teacher faculty meeting. I'm hoping we can reshcedule for later in the day. This next week should be a busy one though, full of meetings with old friends, hours of lesson planning and teaching, and the process of continued acclimation to this somewhat familar but still very new culture. Honestly, it's been a great week and I'm excited for what the rest of the year will bring.
Thanks so much for the all comments. It's nice to be able to access this thing again. It's going to be a nice way to keep in touch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)